


Don't be silly, that's not the way!

by thetamehistorian



Series: All Things In Balance [2]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Baby Yoda is just trying to help his space dad, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, No Proofreading We Die Like Men, The Mandalorian is force sensitive and utterly oblivious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-18 23:57:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22135264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thetamehistorian/pseuds/thetamehistorian
Summary: For as long as he had been aware, he had known the Force.It danced around him, reached for him, responded when he reached back. He didn’t need words to speak to it, learn from it, and rely upon it. The Force was part of him.The Force was part of his new protector too, if only he would use it.
Series: All Things In Balance [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1604062
Comments: 65
Kudos: 947
Collections: Movies





	Don't be silly, that's not the way!

**Author's Note:**

> The blame for this fic falls entirely upon the lovely folks over on CoffeeQuill's Mandalorian discord. They are all horrible enablers.  
> Plot bunny:  
> The Mandalorian is Force sensitive but doesn't know it. The show is just Baby Yoda trying to teach his idiot space dad how to use the Force and getting increasingly exasperated.  
> voila.
> 
> I post occassionally on [Tumblr](https://thetamehistorian.tumblr.com/)  
> Catch me hanging out on CoffeeQuill's Discord

For as long as he had been aware, he had known the Force.

It danced around him, reached for him, responded when he reached back. He didn’t need words to speak to it, learn from it, and rely upon it. The Force was part of him.

*

The day the metal men came, the Force spoke to him of danger. His last caretaker, also cloaked in the Force had been clumsy with it, never quite reaching properly, but knowing enough to listen to its call. And its call had demanded that the adult leave him here.

The door hit the floor with a clang loud enough to break him from his meditation. The metal men stood in front of his temporary home. One spoke with a metal voice and the Force flowed through it in a way that was indistinguishable from the objects around the room. When he focused on it, the Force warned him away, for it was not yet time. Just as quickly as the sense came, the signature dampened and the metal man fell to the floor.

Then, the other metal man stepped forward.

The first thing the child noticed was that this metal man was cloaked in the Force, steeped in it. The Force danced around him, reaching out, brushing against him, holding him tenderly like a child. He glowed.

He was the most beautiful thing the child had ever seen.

When the metal man reached out towards him, he reached out in return and watched in delight and awe as the Force moved between them, building a connection that bridged the gap.

 _Safe_ , the Force told him, _Protector. Home._

*

The journey was slow, so the child took the time to further examine his new caretaker. In the light of the day, his clothing shone strangely, especially the metal on his head. It was oddly fascinating to watch, but not quite as fascinating as the many little creatures roaming the ground.

Perhaps, if he asked, the Force would bring one to him.

It had been a long time since his last meal after all and the cooler air in the canyon had helped his returning appetite which had faded under the heat of the desert.

_Danger!_

The Force screamed at him and at his protector. Beside him, the metal man came to a stop, head titled, listening, reaching for the Force.

Then, just as quickly as he had reached, he pulled away. It was strange to see. The child couldn’t imagine pulling away from the Force like that.

Instead, the man reached for the long stick on his back, just in time to defend as those with viciousness in their hearts descended. The child watched in confusion as his new protector danced the deadly dance of battle and the Force danced with him.

But he did not reach for it.

Perhaps, the child mused, he did not know how. Maybe that was why they had been brought together, so that he could teach the metal man how to use the gift of the Force.

*

The child was tired, but the man’s Force presence kept sparking in pain and it was impossible to ignore.

Whatever tool he was using that was making sparking noises and flashing lights seemed to be healing him, yet it was clear that it was hurting him too.

The child decided that his protector could not possibly know how to use the Force. If he did, surely he would have used it. It would be draining yes, the child was well aware of that, but it wouldn’t cause further harm.

He reached for the Force and it responded, leading him over to where his protector sat. As he drew close, he could hear the restrained noises of pain as the man struggled.

He could help, he had the Force.

Slowly, he drew the Force to him, let it envelop him, and reached out towards the place where the man’s Force presence was soaked in pain. Concentrating, he channeled it, asked it to heal, to make well.

Before he could release it, the metal man caught hold of his claws. The touch was so unexpected that the child lost focus, startled out of the presence of the Force in a way that hadn’t happened in decades.

Then, he was being lifted, returned.

It didn’t make any sense. Maybe the metal man recognized he was tired and didn’t want him to drain himself further? He knew his limits, knew this was within his ability.

He reached out again.

And was interrupted again, and shut away in the dark. It was frustrating, and concerning that his protector would turn down help.

 _Patience_ , the Force whispered to him.

So patient, he would be.

*

The creature was large, and angry. His protector went flying again. He could feel the Force reach for the metal man, whispering of help, of faster reactions, of the right place to strike, but the instructions slid off the metal man like water from a stone.

The child was not afraid. The Force was with him.

When the creature had come for him, he had known that he would be safe. He had felt the way his protector had panicked, a rush of worry directed at his charge.

He had tried to reassure back, sending calm and safety. It hadn’t worked.

The man went flying again and the child could feel the way his Force presence fluctuated, fading in and out when he hit the ground. The Force flowed around him, urgent, as his protector struggled upright again. It was clear he was hurt, badly. And running out of options.

Reach for the Force, he pleaded, reaching out with his own presence to his protector. The Force will help you.

The creature charged. _Now_ the Force demanded.

He reached, grasped, lifted.

He sunk into the Force, into its patterns and flows. He could feel the creature struggled against him, could feel the Forces of nature cry out at the disturbance. For as long as he could, he held it.

 _Rest,_ the Force said. _It is done_.

He slept.

*

His protector continued to ignore the Force.

It would have been more frustrating had there been a real need to use it. But the woman his protector was fighting with was not angry, but scared, and the child could understand that. She did not feel bad in the Force.

He watched as the battle continued and the Force flared and poked at his protector with gentle guidance that was not listened to.

As they reached an impasse and the Force settled he sipped his soup, content.

*

There was another metal man on the ship. There had been a lot of people on the ship. The Force hadn’t liked any of them. Only around his protector did it dance.

He had heard the other people call his protector many things. Mandalorian was the most common. Mando sometimes too. Other names as well, less frequently, and without pleasant intent. The Mandalorian had names for him too. He had called him kid and womp rat. Little one, a few times. Once, _ad’ika_.

The child liked the last one the best. The Force had been filled with affection, love, when the Mandalorian had used that name. He had placed him in his seat after getting rid of the angry young man and reclaiming him from the arms of the older woman (he had liked the older woman, she had appeared brash on the outside, but the Force had shown him the kindness within). The Mandalorian had handed him the shiny ball and brushed against his ear and called him _ad’ika_.

He didn’t know what the word meant, but the intent behind it rang clear as day.

His protector had been tense, shut off in the Force from the moment the other ship arrived on the ship. The child had been wary. The Force warned him that these people were a threat. He tried to hide, but they found him, menace radiating from them.

The one holding him nearly dropped him, but he wasn’t afraid because in that moment the shield around his protector had cracked and his presence had reached out towards him screaming of _protection_ , and he knew that nothing these people could do would hurt him, so long as his protector was there.

Now, they were gone, and he was alone with another metal man that the Force did not register as a living being.

Regardless, the Force cried out _danger_ when the metal man raised a weapon and the child reached out, called the Force to protect and it answered.

The metal man fell in a burst of light and noise.

The child stared at his hand in surprise because he had been asking the Force to protect not attack and the Force had never disputed his instruction before.

 _Safe_ , the Force said as he looked up and saw his protector standing there, the other people nowhere to be found.

 _Father_ , the Force said.

*

The Force had been unsettled for hours. It roiled and writhed with whispers of approaching events that could end in so many different ways.

His father was fighting with the woman again. The child could sense the determination of them both, of the struggle, of the need to gain victory. His father’s Force presence lashed out with a confusing mix of anxiety, pride, happiness, and hurt.

So far his attempts to show his father what the Force could do had not borne fruit.

His father was tense and the woman was winning.

There were easier ways to win.

The child reached for the Force and let it cloak him. He focused on the woman, on the parts of her that were allowing her to gain the strength to beat his father in their game. The Force pushed back a little against his command, whispering of concern, but he didn’t let it faze him.

He was tired and frustrated and feeling generally ill at ease.

He squeezed.

The woman stopped fighting his father and backed away, struggling now against him and the Force. He wanted to show his father how much easier it was to use the Force to win.

“No!”

His father’s voice sounded panicked as he picked him up, but it wasn’t his voice that broke his concentration. The Mandarlorian’s Force presence was lashing out still, only now it was lashing out with panic and fear, jarring against his own presence.

He knew Cara was a friend; he was a child, not an idiot. He would have stopped before seriously harming her, surely his father knew that? Had felt his intention in the Force?

His protector calmed slowly, still pushing the Force and its prodding away.

The child shook his head at his father in exasperation.

Maybe he was not supposed to teach his father to use the Force after all.

*

The man his father called Karga was a contradiction in the Force. It was as though he were on the edge of something, a decision that could alter everything that was to come.

He was also dying.

The child could feel the way the Force was leeching out of him, could feel the worry of his companions, of his father, as they tried to save him.

Could feel the Force tightening, focusing around this one moment and the potentials it held. Trying to see those futures was difficult; they were all blending into each other. All the child knew was that something was about to happen that would change their fortunes.

 _What should I do?_ he asked the Force.

 _Heal_ , it replied.

*

His father was hurt.

His father was dying.

The Force was dancing around him still but it was growing fainter by the second. The child could feel the pain and turmoil and love pouring off his father’s Force presence. Could feel the love reaching for him and all that came with it; a desire to protect, a fear to leave, a word, _ad’ika_.

_Buir._

The child’s only thought was to save him, to heal him.

For the first time in a long time, he felt afraid. Afraid of losing his protector, his metal man, his father.

He reached out, held a boot in his claws, reached out with his Force presence in an attempt to sooth.

 _No_ , said the Force.

The child rebelled against the idea. His father was dying. Nothing was more important than that, he began to channel the Force, fixing the message of healing in his mind.

 _No,_ the Force shouted. _Danger_.

He ignored it; let it run off him like water off a stone.

 _No_ , the Force screamed, surrounding him.

He hesitated.

 _Safe_ , the Force said as it swirled around his father. _Danger_ , it swirled towards the doorway. _Trust_ , it swirled around him.

He listened, for he could not teach his father to trust in the Force if he did not.

Then the heat came, the fire, just as the Force had warned and the child understood. It was his turn to protect now.

He reached and the Force enveloped him, still whispering of trust and reassurance. He focused on the fire, capturing the danger, containing it, and pushing it out with all the strength he had.

And then there was nothing.

*

Even since he had awoken to find his father safe the child had been projecting joy. When the metal woman had added a new piece of metal to his father, he had felt something settle in his father’s Force presence. Felt peace.

When he had reached for his father’s presence, his father’s presence had reached back with love and care.

He reveled in it.

When one danger was passed, another arrived. When the darkness came, the Force twisted and hurting, flying over their heads, the Force did not reach for him.

The Force reached for his father.

And this time his father reached back. The new metal thing his father had placed on his back flung him into the air and into the embrace of the Force.

It danced, just as beautiful as the first time the child had seen him.

*

Later, when his father picked him up and used that same metal power to fly away with him, content and calm and loved, he felt the Force brush against him, whispering.

 _Teach_ , it said.

**Author's Note:**

> Mando'a translations:  
> ad’ika – son / daughter / little one  
> Buir - father


End file.
